


Tomorrow

by swarmsoflizards



Category: Homestuck, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Blood and Violence, Dark, Gen, POV Nepeta Leijon, POV Second Person, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Suicide, in that there is no way its going to end well, this is probably exactly what youre expecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:32:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2242611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swarmsoflizards/pseuds/swarmsoflizards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a girl and boy who did their best, defied the odds, and almost achieved the impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so a couple of notes: First of all, since I didn't want to genderbend any of the trolls, instead of having a boy and a girl from each district, it's just two kids. Second, the I have the districts taking the place of the hemospectrum- fuchsia bloods as district 1, violet bloods as district 2, and so on.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

_By tomorrow we’ll be swimming with the fishes_

_Leave our troubles in the sand_

_And when the sun comes up_

_We’ll be nothing but dust_

_Just the outlines of our hands_

  
-Daughter, [_Tomorrow_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqxJ5oC7s1E)

 

\- - -  
  
  
Your name.   
  
Stretched out and butchered and squawked through a microphone, but your name.   
  
You're pushed forward by firm hand to the back, and the sparkling woman on the stage looks at you and smiles.  
  
That wakes you up. You stand up straight and walk ahead. You gracefully ascend the stairs and take your place beside her. You don't hear the second name over the rushing in your ears, but you see a shell-shocked girl pushed forward, tears running down her face, desperately making violent motions with her hands.  
  
You've seen her around. You know she can't hear.  
  
She's going to be eaten alive.  
  
\- - -  
  
You suppose that really, you're one of the lucky ones.   
  
You've had to feed yourself and your small family for years, venturing into the sparse forests outside the chain-link fences and learning to kill by watching the feral cats that live there.   
  
You grew up in the game already, surviving alone against the world, knowing you may eventually adapt to killing humans rather than rodents.  
  
In retrospect, being thrust into Hell may not be so different at all.  
  
\- - -  
  
Your trainer is a grizzled woman with thick, straight scars running up and down her body.  
  
She could have easily gotten them removed or fixed, but she says that then she would forget. That it would be a betrayal of his memory.  
  
You don't ask who he was.  
  
You trust that she will give you the best chance you could have.  
  
\- - -  
  
You have a week.  
  
In a week you will be killing, but for now, you train.   
  
You train with short claw-like knives, you train with bows and arrows, and you train with silent spears.  
  
You learn a lot about the others, too.  
  
You learn what the deaf girl is called, you learn the boy in the turtleneck could easily bifurcate you with a sickle, and you learn that the girl with the braids may impale you out of spite for a cat pun you made yesterday.  
  
You learn the huge guy in the wifebeater can't handle a real weapon for shit, but could probably take you all on right now with his bare hands and win.  
  
You make a mental note to pay attention to him.  
  
\- - -  
  
Oh, you are so very, _very_ lucky.  
  
As the glass lifts you see a short open field with the cornucopia in the middle, with nothing but thick, lush forests in every direction.   
  
 ** _10_**  
  
You scan the array laid out before you.  
  
 ** _9_**  
  
You can't make out too much from this distance.  
  
 ** _8_**  
  
But that looks like  
  
 ** _7_**  
  
a pair of gauntlets   
  
 ** _6_**  
  
with sharp claws extending from the knuckles.  
  
 ** _5_**  
  
You have to get them.  
  
 ** _4_**  
  
You glance from side to side  
  
 ** _3_**  
  
gauge who looks like they'll run  
  
 ** _2_**  
  
who looks like they'll stay and fight  
  
 ** _1_**  
  
 ** _BANG_**  
  
Your feet are flying off your platform as the cannon goes off.   
  
You can't see outside the pinprick at the end of your tunnel, your gauntlets, the weapon that has to be there just for you-  
  
You're knocked to the side. The Career girl with the braids just crashed into you, but before she can get in another hit you're back on your feet and you _punch_ her as hard as you can right across the jaw and you're running again. You're almost there-  
  
You grab them without breaking your stride, and grab something else there too as you pass without stopping to see what it is. You keep running. As soon as you make it to the trees you'll be safe, you know you will be, no one can stop you once you're there.  
  
The tunnel vision is gone. You hear a wretched scream, the thick splatters of blood behind you, the thuds of kids fighting and bodies dropping and _oh god this is so much worse than it was on TV and_  
  
You're there, you're here, you're in the trees, you're safe, but you have to keep running. You have to keep running or they'll find you and they'll kill you and your mom won't have anyone anymore and you'll never see your damn cat again. You have to keep running.


	2. Chapter 2

_By tomorrow we’ll be lost amongst the leaves_

_In a wind that chills the skeletons of trees_

_And when the moon, it shines_

_I will leave two lines_

_Find my love, then find me_

-Daughter, [_Tomorrow_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqxJ5oC7s1E)

**\- - -**

 

You stop when you come to the edge of a lake. It's enormous, bigger than anything you could've imagined, but that's not important. The other thing you grabbed, you realize now, is a water bottle.

It could be poison, but it also could be the only water source in the whole arena, so you fill it up and decide you'll camp out and watch until someone else comes and drinks it first.

With your gauntlets dangling from one hand and your water bottle screwed shut and tucked into one of the gloves, you wander a bit back the way you came and start climbing the branches of a tree. It’s fairly tall, but the branches are all very close together, and it’s easy to get to the top. You set your bottle in the hollow where two branches split and keep climbing until you’re above the canopy.

It’s incredible; You can see all the way back to the clearing where the cornucopia is, and the continuing forest beyond it. Looking around, it seems like the entire arena really is forest. If your luck continues, the others will all kill each other and forget about you.

You have a feeling your luck will run out before then.

\- - -

_**BANG** _

Shit, you must have fallen asleep-

_**BANG** _

Are these the first cannons or did you miss some?

_**BANG** _

No, you couldn’t have slept through that-

_**BANG** _

Besides, they’ll show the pictures of the kids that died anyway, you can count them then.

_**BANG** _

You made it, though.

_**BANG** _

You made it through the first day.

_**BANG** _

You can do this.

_**BANG** _

…

Silence.

Eight dead, if you didn’t miss any.

Only sixteen left.

You can do this.

\- - -

You wake again when you hear splashing from the lake.

Not splashing like someone drinking or collecting water, but splashing like someone _swimming_.

You sit up and silently climb back to the top of your tree to get a view of whoever it is that’s stupid enough to make that much noise when there are surely several other people within earshot.

It’s the other District 1 girl, the one with all the hair.

She’s floating on her back in the lake now, stopped with all her splashing. She looks peaceful, at one with the world, as if she isn’t in a place where she will die if she doesn’t keep her guard up. It’s like she thinks she’s invincible.

_You could kill her right now._

Except no, you couldn’t, your only weapons are your gauntlets, and you need to be up close to use those. And besides, you think you see someone else down there, anyway. Yeah, it’s the 2 boy with the stupid chunk of purple in his hair. You think you saw him training with a rifle, he’s probably gonna take care of her right now.

But… he’s not killing her, he’s pacing nervously back and forth in front of the beach. Almost like he’s guarding her. _Shit_ , you would have thought it would take longer for everyone to start forming alliances. They look like they’re alone, though, so maybe it’s just the pair of them?

However many of them there are, you’re staying away from it.

You climb back down to where you slept and get ready to wait out the rest of the night.

\- - -

You’re a week in.

You’ve managed to survive a week in this fucking hellhole, and your competition has dwindled to seven others. There were several cannons in rapid succession a few days ago; You saw the younger district 5 girl take out her teammate. She was screeching about killing someone else and ruining their plan, and stabbed her in the chest. Her arm was already gone when you got there. You’ll need to watch out for her.

You’ve developed somewhat of a talent for watching people. Perhaps stalking is a better word, actually.

You’re currently stalking the frankly absurdly large 4 boy. You’ve been following him for three days, and so far he’s shown no interest in killing anyone or getting involved with anyone else. He’s perfectly content roaming around, trying and failing to shoot arrows at trees.

He fascinates you.

He seems to be getting ready to move on from this spot, now, so you make your move without giving it proper thought. You drop down from your perch in the tree above him.

\- - -

This is what a good partnership is, you think.

You keep each other in check. You learn that the reason he has been avoiding conflict is because he has the tendency to spectacularly dive off the handle at the slightest provocation. You learn that his excuse for being terrible at archery is being too strong for it, and that he has a crazy superiority complex about districts. He’s quite fond of you, though.

You’re something like friends, as much as you can be where you are. It’s strange.

This relationship of yours is symbiotic, and you’re both better off for it. You’re the one who provides food, as much as he gives you shit about killing animals, and he serves as more of a bodyguard. He teaches you quite a bit about self defense, and you spar sometimes.

You try not to think about what will happen if you’re the last two standing.


	3. Chapter 3

_And tomorrow I’ll be left in the darkness_

_Amongst your cold sheets_

_And your shoes will be gone_

_And your body warmth no longer beside me_

-Daughter, [_Tomorrow_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqxJ5oC7s1E)

 

**\- - -**

 

You hear the scream first.

It wakes you in the night, piercing the dark like shattering glass. You’re up and ready to slash at the air in a fraction of a second and he’s shocked awake and still, but that scream is too far away for you to be next.

_**BANG** _

You bring your finger to your lips, and sprint through the underbrush to what’s probably your death.

\- - -

You feel it in your skull when the next cannon goes off. The deafening

_**BANG** _

as you watch the kid’s head crack against the tree, his eyes cutting a path towards you. The 2 boy with the purple hair and the skinny 7 girl are standing, taking heaving breaths, waiting for the other to make the first move. The 1 girl you saw before with him is on the ground with a hole blown out of her chest, and sure enough, he’s gripping his rifle so tight that his knuckles are white. You can see him shaking from here. The girl is holding a long curved blade in front of her like a lifeline. Then

she _screams_

and she rushes toward him and he yells and he shoots her in the gut and you see blood fly and spatter but she keeps running and keeps screaming she swings her sword across in a perfect arc and you watch as he crumples, his knees giving out, and _holy shit_ his torso slides from his hips as he falls and the cannon makes a perfect and final

 _ **BANG**_.

She drops the sword and brings her hand to her injured stomach, which is producing a flood of red down her middle, and turns and sits down with her back to a tree, and closes her eyes.

That’s where he finds you, long after the girl’s cannon goes off and you haven’t moved in what feels like days, and he kneels beside you and you fall into his arms.

\- - -

There are only six of you left.

You're starting to regret your partnership, because you don't think you could bring yourself to kill him if you were the only ones left. You take comfort in knowing that he probably couldn’t kill you, either.

\- - -

You hear a twig snap.

It’s dark with no light but the full moon, but you know that he’s asleep and you haven’t moved in ages. It’s not either of you. You lift your head and strain to see what made the noise, but you’re almost blind in the dark. You feel your way back behind you to the first branch on the tree you’re leaning against, and will yourself to be silent. You climb sightlessly, going by feel alone, and you wait for the noise to come again.

And wait.

And wait.

 _Crack_.

Right below you.

You drop.

And you land square on top of someone and crash to the ground, with your knee crushing their windpipe and you yell as loud as you can to wake him up, before you remember your gauntlets and you hold them at his throat.

Your heaving breaths mingle with the interloper’s shallow ones as you wait for him- your partner, your friend- to get his ass over here and help you decide what to do.

The boy you’re crouching over is from district 3. Both of them look pretty similar, but this is the one who didn’t _sew his fucking mouth shut_ , or whatever. He looks unruffled by the fact that you’re on top of and ready to kill him, his mouth set in a lazy grin and his eyes calmly meeting yours.

You can only see a foot in front of you, but you hear him crash your way after you yell. You assume he’s taking in the scene in front of him when he’s quiet again, and all you can hear is your respective breathing. The wet smell of the woods is overshadowed by the strange stench of the newcomer- sweat and weeks in the arena, to be sure, but also something else, sweeter.

Your friend draws in a breath to say something but you’re _flipped_ , you’re on your back, and the 3 boy is on top of you now, silent, hand on your throat and eyes on your friend. He’s not blocking your air yet, he’s waiting, as if he knows that your friend won’t do anything to harm you. You’re his hostage. You wonder how long he’s watched you to know of your dynamic.

You hear the slight _thud_ of your friend dropping his bow. The 3 boy shifts over you to pick it up and throws it behind him, and out of the corner of your eye you see your friend run and jump and tackle the boy right off of you. They’re wrestling, and you can tell that even though the 3 boy is tall and skinny, it’s all muscle. They’re an even match. You don’t know what to do- you could probably retrieve the arrows and take a shot, but archery isn’t your strong suit, and you don’t want to hit your friend. With your gauntlets you’d have to dive into the action, but you are far from an even match in hand-to-hand combat, even with them.

The 3 boy makes a break for the arrows back where you were sleeping, and you notice absurdly that it’s gotten light enough that you can see that far away. Your friend chases after him, but the 3 boy slings the quiver over his shoulder and grabs an arrow and holds it like a spear. He’s so fast you don’t even see him move, it’s just silence and then there’s an arrow in your friend’s knee, and you don’t even think you just run and you _slice_ -

and blood flows from both the wounds on his face and his throat and his eyes meet yours and instead of grabbing at his throat like any sane person he grabs your wrist and you feel it _snap_ and then it’s done, he’s dead with a jarringly final

_**BANG** _

and your wrist is a pulsing flare on your aching body and your friend might not be able to walk, but you’re alive, and you’re together.

\- - -

The girls from districts 5 and 12 could have been the last ones standing (5 was a genius, but 12 fucked up the bomb and blew them both sky high).

The younger girl from 6 could have won (had she not gotten stabbed in the chest by the 3 boy).

The girl from 11 should have had a chance (she was vicious with a whip, but she was killed in some ‘accident’ before the start of the games).

But instead you are here, as you feared you would be.

You hear the 22nd cannon go off (the short loud one from 12) and you wonder if it was suicide or just some terrible accident, because those are the only options now.

You and your friend (partner) are the last two standing, but only one of you can be the victor.

You look at each other, and you think you might see the same fear reflected in his eyes, but maybe you’re projecting. You think instead he probably just looks sad.

You know what you’ll do. You can’t kill him, no matter how much you wish you could, or know you should. You know that you would really rather die than see him hurt any more, which is so fucking different from the kill-or-be-killed mentality you’ve known your whole life that for a moment you want to cry out to the stars and yell _WHY ME? WHY US?_ But you don’t, because the point is moot, and you know what you’ll do.

He holds out his hand to you and you take it, because you’ll always take it, and he squeezes. You lower your eyes, and you know he knows what you’re planning to do. Your gauntlets are sharp and you’ve come to terms with it, and nothing he says will change your mind. You won’t cry even though you want to. You turn away, still holding his hand, and take a deep breath.

You feel it somehow, on a gut level, the moment something’s wrong. Your head springs up but you’re looking in the wrong direction, around instead of back, and you don’t know until you feel the grip on your hand go slack.

You turn back to him, your eyes wide, disbelieving, as you stare at him, pointedly avoiding the arrow sticking out of his neck, and he smiles at you. He squeezes your hand.

_**BANG** _

You feel a tear trickle down your cheek.

\- - -

Your name is Nepeta Leijon.

You are the victor from district 8, no longer starving but rich and full.

You wish it had been you.


End file.
